


The Lines Within

by Angelicat2



Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crying Keith (Voltron), Dissociation, Fantastic Racism, Flashbacks, Keith (Voltron) Has Abandonment Issues, Keith (Voltron) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage, Post-Episode: s02e08 The Blade of Marmora, Prompt: Panic Attacks, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Relapsing, Self-Harm, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Trauma, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelicat2/pseuds/Angelicat2
Summary: Keith's been self-harm clean for two years. He hadn't hurt himself after Kerberos failed. He hadn't when a blue lion took them to space. He hadn't after his team found out about his past.But it's different now. Keith's losing it, after finding out he's half-Galra. Luckily, Shiro comes to check up on him and they have a needed talk.
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Other, Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951774
Comments: 7
Kudos: 188





	The Lines Within

**Author's Note:**

> This one is heavy, so make sure you read the tags. With that, enjoy!

Keith stares at his hand numbly.

He's Keith Kogane. He's 19. He's been through abusive foster families and careless homes for troubled people like him. He's practically been on his own since his dad died when he was 6. He lived in his desert shack for a year, alone, when his best friend died on the Kerberos mission. He is in a castle ship surrounded by a team of teens, Alteans, mice, a cow, and he's the Red Paladin. 

He's Galra.

Keith stares harder, not quite connecting his own fist to his body. He's just...so painfully numb. It's like a blackhole has opened up inside his chest and the rest of him is collapsing in on itself with a cold/dead zap. 

He's Galra.

His fist tightens. Or is it his fist? He can't be sure, especially not after seeing what he did at the Blade trials. His dad was there, 13 years dead. Shiro...had been a hologram. Keith…

Keith's Galra.

He's Galra.

Keith curls up, shoulders hunched over and shaking. His shoulder wound stings, but it doesn't bleed anymore. Various bruises love to remind him they exist, but he doesn't really notice them - not over the heavy fog over his...well, everything. 

He's Galra.

Was his mom the Galra? Is that why she left him? Because he wasn't Galra enough? He wasn't the kid she wanted. Did she want a purple Galra baby, but got him instead? And his blade, it must have been hers. Why did she leave it? Why didn't she just take him with her when she left?

At least then he wouldn't have been repeatedly raped and hurt.

Keith's maybe-fist clenches again. The blackhole only grows more and more, expanding silently with a deadly grip.

They hate him.

His team hates him.

He's Galra, and they hate him. He saw the way Pidge stared at him like he was an experiment in the works. He's been on the receiving side of that type of look before, and nothing good ever came out of it. Hunk, well, Hunk was even more nervous around him, which makes sense. How could you trust the enemy? Lance has been quiet, not teasing or joking with him anymore. It wasn't like him, but it makes sense too.

All Keith does is mess things up by being around anyone. He's burnt and spoiled, and he destroys anything he touches.

 _"Such a pretty little thing,"_ the voice echoes in his head. He knows just who it was as the feeling of hands grip onto his maybe-wrists, _"So pretty he destroys everything. Why I think I should destroy him. Starting with that pretty little mouth."_

Keith grits his teeth. He's not there. He's not back with that man. He's not being held down. He's not...he's not being raped again. It's been more than 6 years ago. He's not there.

But it honestly feels like he is. He can feel phantom hands yanking his jaws open roughly, thick fingers almost jabbing into his gag reflex. He can practically feel it as something too painfully large is shoved into his throat-

"I'm not there, I'm in the castle," Keith blurts out loud, shaking a bit, "I'm Keith, the Paladin of the Red Lion. I'm the Guardian of Fire."

God, he clenches his fists again.

The Alteans hate him more than the others do. Coran is skittish around him now, and more times than not, he's not even around. It was normal before the others saw his scars in that lines ceremony, but he had been hanging around more often the last few months. Keith really did ruin that. It's a wonder anyone wants to be close enough to him.

And Allura...she's been ignoring him. None of his good deeds matter. It doesn't matter that he's saved her multiple times already. It doesn't matter that he's loyal to Voltron and only Voltron. She hates him...won't even look at him. Just...just like they said.

He rubs his might-be-his arms. He's still so numb. So painfully numb, like frostbite he can't feel.

Was he hurt because he was Galra? Could people just sense it? Did they instinctively know when they beat him? When they neglected him? When they held him down and took from him? Is that why they did it? Because he was alien? Did he deserve it? Was...was it his fault?

His stomach curls.

He doesn't know why Shiro even wants to be around him anymore. He hasn't changed at all towards the younger, but Keith knows it has to be taking a toll. The Galra took his arm and hurt him beyond reason. 

And he's Galra.

What if...what if he reminds Shiro of his abusers but the older just won't say it? What if Keith does go Galra and hurts one of them? He doesn't want to hurt any of them. Not even Allura, despite her hatred. Especially not Shiro, who's been through so much. Most of his scars came from the Galra. Keith...what if he adds to that? What if...what if Shiro looks at him with fear...with despise in his eyes? What if...what if Shiro decides Keith isn't enough? What if he leaves because Keith is Galra? What if he leaves because Keith is broken and worthless and-

He grips his might-be chest. It's hard to breathe now, his breathing way too quick. His body is floaty, like it's not his right now. He tries so hard to remember the focusing techniques Shiro has taught him. He glances around his bare room, looking for five things to see.

The wall…

He struggles for his next breath.

The...his jacket.

His breathing quickens. 

His knif-

He stops breathing, as if his throat is locked up tightly with chains and keys. He can practically feel hands squeezing his neck, blocking off his airway.

He starts to panic. Yellow tints his vision as everything sharpens. He picks up his blade, still feeling detached in the weirdest way. Before he's aware of it, his sharp dagger cuts through flesh like it's butter. Blood wells to the surface as he runs it over his inner arm in a straight line. He somehow feels it, just slightly. It feels good and what's a new scar compared to all the ones already there?

He breathes now, a soft gasping breath. It feels better, so he moves onto a new line beside that. Blood runs red along his pale arm, the slight pain rejoining his arm to his body...to him. Another cut appears as he finally takes a deep breath in, tension leaving him slowly. He loses count of how many cuts he puts there, but finally, he feels like his body is his and he is better.

Until he looks at the blood. Then it hits him.

He hasn't cut himself since before the Kerberos mission. It's been two years. Two years he just gave up only to relapse. And he's never used his dad's last gift to do so, until now...

Shiro's going to be disappointed with him.

He buries his face into his knees, trying not to panic again. He feels tears coming to his eyes, but he ignores them as he presses his burning wounds into his shirt to stem the flow. He's barely done so when a knock comes through his door, completely destroying any sense of calm he may have had. 

…..

Shiro was getting worried. He hadn't seen Keith in two hours. Normally, this would be fine, given the fact that the younger would be training. But right now, Keith was injured from the trials, a long cut to his shoulder that would scar. He had scrapes and bruises that had to hurt.

Shiro was more worried about Keith's mental health.

This had to be a shock, to find out he is part of the group who they're fighting.

Shiro needs to check the other. 

"If you'll excuse me, princess," he speaks up, accidentally cutting off Kolivan who goes silent. Oh, right. They were in the middle of planning how to defeat Zarkon. He doesn't care much about it right now, given the fact that his friend is somewhere else, likely hurting. He stands up, "I am going to check on Keith."

He sees the flinch from Allura. He also notes the others wincing softly. Shiro sighs on the inside, knowing that they need time. They'd come around eventually. It's a shock to everyone. 

"Okay," Allura nods, refusing to look his way, "You are dismissed."

Shiro grits his teeth. He doesn't stay to argue, instead turning to head to Keith's room. He goes down hall after hall, trying not to let his mind go wild. But he knows that when it comes to Keith, his mind is going to go crazy.

Keith...well, Shiro likes him a lot. He's his best friend. He's known him for years now, knows the pain he's been through. He knows his past and Keith his. He knows just how loyal and strong Keith is, how trustworthy. Shiro thinks that the younger is very brave, even though Keith doesn't quite see it in himself.

He knocks on the door as soon as he gets to it.

No answer. 

"Keith?" He asks softly, beginning to think that maybe Keith had gone out to the training deck despite the painful wounds from the trials, "Can I please come in?"

There's no sound and his worry doubles. Perhaps Keith really was throwing himself head first into the gladiator. It is how he works through his issues, actions over words. Keith was the kind to ignore his wounds, his hurt, his fear just so others wouldn't deem him unlovable. Shiro hates how Keith has been endlessly raised this way. 

He's about to turn to leave when a tiny sound catches his ear. Frowning, he quickly decides to enter the room even if Keith doesn't want him to. He presses his hand to the DNA scanner before rushing in.

It's fairly dark inside, lights at 25 percent. The room doesn't look disturbed at all. Keith's red and white crop-top jacket hangs to his right. There's still no decorations or sovereigns in the room, likely a habit from moving so much in his childhood. Shiro is shocked that Keith somehow kept his blade with him the whole time. 

He turns to the groove that houses Keith's bed and he doesn't like what he sees.

Keith is sitting on the bed, curled up into a ball. His arms are pinned to his shirt, his whole body shaking and rocking slightly. He's pale as can be and...there's blood.

"Keith!" He shouts in worry. The younger flinches before pressing his forehead against his knees, hands moving to grip his hair. The younger man's breathing picks up in a startling way. Shiro comes closer.

"I'm sorry," Keith whimpers softly before pulling his black locks tightly. His words deteriorate into a fast rambling mess, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Don't hate me, don't leave, I'm sorry…"

At first, Shiro thinks Keith must be talking about being Galra. It would be why he had a reaction like this. 

But then his eyes see where the blood is coming from. 

It's not coming from the wounded shoulder. It's coming from Keith's inner arms. He can see Keith's blade now, scarlet on the edge.

Keith cut himself again.

As far as Shiro knows, it's been years since the younger had done so. He remembers the last time, just before Kerberos. Keith had been stressed by the relentless tests the Garrison was giving, the fact that Shiro was about to leave to the furthest reaches of the known universe (at the time), and his own memories haunting him. Shiro had found him out on the roof that night, cuts bleeding and his best friend breaking.

And now it's started anew. 

"Hey, no," Shiro speaks as he grabs onto Keith's hands carefully, gently prying them out of his hair, "It's okay, Keith. I'm not mad. I'm not going to leave. I don't hate you."

"I'm sorry," Keith bursts out again before exposing his arms. Shiro winces at the new slices there before schooling his expression into something soft and relaxing, "I'm sorry. I hurt myself again. I'm sorry. I wasted two years. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Keith," Shiro carefully grabs onto Keith's face, not holding his jaw but gently putting pressure there to reassure his best friend. The younger pants still, tears coming from red-rimmed eyes as he finally goes silent, "I'm not angry. I'm not disappointed. Relapses happen. Trauma stays. I get it. I get it."

Keith's eyes shoot up to look at him, large and shining. The younger doesn't start apologizing again, only puts his head down.

"Hey, Keith," Shiro gently tilts his head up so Keith will look at him. He still shakes some, "I'm here. I'm not ashamed. I get it. You're not there. You're not back with that horrible man. You're Keith, my best friend. You're the Red Paladin, the Paladin of the Red Lion, Right Hand of Voltron. You have people who care. You're not alone."

"They hate me," Keith whispers softly, thumb working along his fingers, "They should. You should hate me too-"

"No," Shiro interrupts, shaking his head, "I will never hate you, Keith. Never ever. You could look full Galra and have weird habits and do crazy shit and I still would be your best friend. And the others need some time, they're just as shocked as you are. And in the meantime, I'm here for you. I'm not giving up on you."

"I…" Keith pauses before an ugly sob leaves him. He quickly latches onto Shiro like an octopus, nearly making the older tip over into the bed, before crying. It's one that has built up for a long time, maybe even before all this Galra stuff. Before this space war, before the Garrison, before the rampant abuse, before his dad's death, before his Galra mother left for good. Shiro settles down on the bed, hugging him close as the younger speaks, "I just...can't get it out of my head. It's been six years, but sometimes it feels like it's still happening. Like I'm still being held down and raped. I still feel his hands on me and his voice...Is...Is there something wrong with me?"

"No, there's nothing wrong with you," Shiro rubs Keith's back, "It's normal. I know my own trauma can't match yours...no one's truly can match anyone else's, but I get it. I feel the exact same way, with what I do remember. I remember the matches, of having to kill for entertainment. Of their blood splattering everywhere on me. I remember claws sinking into my flesh painfully…"

A moment of silence echoes around them. 

"I remember my arm being taken," Shiro confesses, a long held secret, "I remember the pain, how the witch stood there watching it happen, how her voice still rests in my head. I still have nightmares about it all. This stuff...it doesn't go away overnight or even after years. But know one thing, I will never let that happen to you again."

"Me neither," Keith breathes out before relaxing against him, "I won't let them hurt you again either."

"Good," Shiro nods before he brushes his mechanical fingers through ebony strands at the nape of Keith's neck, "Now, how about we do something about the shoulder and arms. I know you haven't taken a shower yet."

"Okay," Keith agrees before sighing exhaustedly, "Thank you."

"Any time," Shiro smiles fondly before pressing a gentle kiss to the other's forehead. Strangely, Keith relaxes further, slumping into his front. Shiro just holds him for a few minutes more.

They'll clean up the cuts and scrapes. But for now, they need this.


End file.
